Making More Than Pancakes
by LizaCameron
Summary: Emma's pregnant and a wee bit cranky, Killian's bent on reading pregnancy books and feeding her nutritious food and the Charming's have decided it's time to decorate the nursery. Set post 7x02, a heartwarming look at a day in the life of Captain Swan while they're expecting.


Note: This is a CSSS gift for edgeofrealms! It was such a joy getting to be your CS Secret Santa and I'm sorry this is so late. Shall we call it a New Year's gift? This little fic was inspired by our conversations. You said you liked fluff and you said:

" _I wish we couldve seen more of their life post- the final battle. like emmas pregnancy and how they adjusted to being married."_

So that's what this is! I hope you enjoy!

xxx

Emma looked down at her breakfast and sighed. She loved her husband, she really did, but she did not love pasteurized Greek yogurt with vegan, gluten-free, protein-rich granola for breakfast. At least there were some berries on top. Where did one even get organic, vegan, gluten-free, protein-rich granola in Storybrooke?

She looked over to where he was bustling around the kitchen wearing a 'Pirates have more fun' apron that a then 16-year-old Henry had thought a hilarious Christmas gift. "Did you cross the town line to get this?" she pointed to the bowl on the table in front of her.

His eyes lit up, clearly delighted with himself. "Aye."

"Why?"

"The market in town has insufficient selection. I read-"

"Oh boy," Emma interrupted and put down her spoon. "I'm going to take the internet away from you."

His eyes widened in horror at the thought. "The computer contains much useful information on your current state, Swan. You and the baby need calcium and protein and nutrients and-"

"They have granola at the market here in town," Emma pointed out practically, before adding, "And you don't have to drive an hour to get it."

Killian shook his head. "The brand at the local market is full of sugar and very few nutrients comparatively."

"Why does it need to be vegan if you're putting it over yogurt anyway?" Emma asked practically.

"It doesn't, but this brand was rated the most nutritious in a variety of categories."

She looked at him with the sweetest smile she could muster. "You could make me a pancake instead."

His smile in return was affectionate, but he shook his head.

"Why?" Emma whined.

"Because they are nutrient free and last time you put chocolate chips and whip cream on them. Empty calories. Pancakes are for special occasions. A treat."

"It's Saturday, Saturday should be a special occasion." Emma replied with a note of irritation in her voice. Then she motioned to her husband, "If you won't make me pancakes, then why are you wearing that apron? All you did was put yogurt in a bowl."

Emma had been showing flashes of annoyance as the pregnancy progressed, however he'd read several pregnancy books and they informed him this was normal, having something to do with hormones. With a smile, Killian moved towards her until he could lean around and drop a kiss on her forehead. "I'm wearing it because it reminds me of our lad."

"Oh." Emma's frustration crumbled and she felt her heart squeeze at the mention of her son. Their son. She missed him fiercely. "I miss him, too."

"I'm sure we'll see him soon," Killian said with more conviction than he felt.

"You know what would help with the missing?" Emma asked with a bit of a sniffle.

"What, love?" Killian asked with twin notes of curiosity and eagerness.

"Hot chocolate." Emma supplied hopefully.

Killian leaned back against the stove and cocked an eyebrow at her, but before he could respond, the front door banged open.

With a start, they instantly found the source of the intrusion. Storybrooke might have been quiet these last few years, but they were still both in a state of constant readiness.

Emma sighed with relief and a bit of exasperation. "Mom, we've talked about knocking."

"Pfft, you're almost nine months pregnant, what would there be to walk in on?" Snow chuckled, as she made her way into the living room, carrying a large laundry basket filled to the brim.

Emma gave her a pointed look that was supposed to convey that her mother was wrong, but internally she winced. It had been awhile since there'd been anything to interrupt.

"I'm sorry it's so early, but we dropped Neal at soccer practice and since he has a play date afterwards with one of his teammates, we actually have some free time this morning."

"What's all this?" Killian asked as he wandered towards the couch and peered into the basket now sitting on the coffee table.

"Swatches, paint samples," Snow explained eagerly, before adding, "It's time to make some decisions on the nursery."

"Killian and I were thinking we'd wait until the baby comes, since we don't know if we're having a boy or a girl."

"Nonsense," Snow waved that idea away with her hand. "You don't want to bring a baby home to an unfinished nursey, trust me you will not have the energy to decorate after the baby is born. There are plenty of wonderful options that are gender neutral. Besides, who ever heard of a color having a gender anyway? Personally, I like this one," she pulled out a card with bright, sunshine yellow paint on it and brought it over for Emma to inspect.

Emma turned the card over in her hand. "It's a bit much."

"Yellow is a happy color," Snow replied brightly.

"I did read that on the computer," Killian agreed. "There was a study of children and the color of their living quarters, children in yellow rooms were happiest."

"Yeah, but our infant will need sunglasses in order to sleep and I don't know where we'd find ones that tiny," Emma retorted sardonically.

"Well how about this?" Snow pulled another paint chip from her bag, this time a deep turquois.

"We agreed that we were going to offer to help, not force our taste on them." A voice from the door sounded.

"Dad," Emma smiled at the welcome sight of her father and started the arduous process of pushing herself up from the table.

Her father gestured for her to stay put, instead he walked over and dropped a kiss on her head and then looked to Killian, "Nice apron."

"An old gift from Henry." Killian replied without a trace of self-consciousness.

David paused for a beat and then nodded, a sign he understood the impetus behind Killian wearing the apron. Then he clapped his hands together. "I hear you have a crib that needs to be built, lead me to it."

Killian glanced to Emma with a raised eyebrow. "You called your father? I thought you wanted to help me assemble it?"

"I did, but that was before I got so uncomfortable that I can't even sit on the floor. Dad and I assembled Neal's, so he knows what to do."

Killian didn't show either emotion, but he was both relieved and disappointed. In the last trimester of her pregnancy, Emma had exhibited less patience than usual. With David, he would make quicker work of the crib than he would with Emma, but it had been something he was looking forward to doing with his wife. There was also the fact he was exhausted and had been planning to go back to bed after breakfast. It had been a late night, or rather early morning, of sheriff duty and he'd gotten less than two hours of sleep... but perhaps working without sleep would be good practice for when the baby came. Resigned to his fate, he looked to his father-in-law. "The boxes are in the nursery, as are an assortment of gadgets and tools, do we require anything else to complete the task?"

"A cold beverage?" David suggested with a grin.

"Beer?" Killian asked with surprise. Over the years, the two had spent a lot of leisure time together and Killian knew that when David referred to a cold beverage he meant beer.

"Sounds great."

"David!" Snow admonished with a scandalized expression. "It's not even 9am."

David shrugged, but relented and pointed to the coffee pot. "Then I suppose a bit more caffeine wouldn't hurt."

Killian poured them both cups, and then offered to pour one for Snow who declined saying she'd help herself. The expectant father started to follow David, but then turned back to his mother-in-law and said, "See that she eats her breakfast," before disappearing up the stairs.

"Covering it in chocolate syrup is the only way you're getting me to eat this." Emma retorted softly enough that she knew Killian wouldn't hear.

"Is it so awful?" Snow asked as she surveyed her daughter's half-eaten bowl of yogurt and granola.

"No, it's not bad, it's just not pancakes... or waffles... or French toast... or a bear claw."

"Ah... has he at least stopped offering fish for breakfast?"

Emma gave a huff of a laugh, "We broke him of that habit years ago, but, yes, now he only eats fish for non-breakfast meals. However, these days he's being very careful about what fish he serves, you see apparently some fish is recommended as part of a diet for pregnant women, but you have to be careful about mercury. He's an expert. All I know is once a week we have salmon for dinner... usually served with broccoli and spinach."

"Well it's not a bad thing that one of you is worried about nutrition." Snow said as she walked to the coffee table to retrieve her laundry basket full of items. Once she'd heaved it on the kitchen table, she poured herself a cup of coffee.

Emma felt herself prickle at her mother's comment, but instead of saying anything about it sighed, "I miss coffee."

"I'm sure Killian would make you some decaffeinated," Snow replied perkily.

Emma refrained from rolling her eyes, but she felt like it. "Not the same."

"Well you'll be able to have coffee soon enough."

"Sure, after another six months to a year of breastfeeding."

Snow looked at her daughter with concern. "Everything okay?"

At that, Emma looked up, "Yeah, sure, why wouldn't it be?" Wanting to change the subject, she pushed herself up from her chair so she could take her breakfast dishes to the sink and on her way back motioned to her mother's basket. "Show me what you brought."

Excitedly, Snow removed paint chips and fabric swatches and starting laying them out on the table.

Emma looked down at the abundance of color in front of her. The paint chips made a vivid rainbow against the wood of the table. Then her eyes traveled to the fabric swatches. There was a swatch with ducks, one with whales, and one with frogs. Other samples had themes ranging from clowns to sail boats to the moon and the stars, some had the same patterns, but in different colors. Overwhelmed Emma plopped back down in her seat.

Snow sat down next to her and started explaining the colors, the differences in tone and hue, which were complimentary, which would work with the fabric. When she finally stopped talking to take a breath, she glanced expectantly to Emma who in turn was looking a little dazed.

"Emma," Snow nudged her gently, "What do you think?"

"What do I think? I don't know. I don't know what to think. Other than... how am I going to be a good mother? I don't eat right and I can't even pick a color for the nursery!" Emma replied, startling even herself. Instantly she felt a hot sting behind her eyes. She sat for a moment willing herself not to cry, she did not succeed.

"Oh honey," Snow said as she searched for a tissue. Finding a napkin, she handed it to Emma before reaching over and rubbing a comforting circle on Emma's back. "Where is this coming from? You're already a wonderful mother."

Emma just looked at her and blew her nose.

Snow knew what she was thinking, and a bit how she felt. Henry had been an adolescent when Emma came into his life, mothering an infant was different. "You'll be great with an infant; you were great with your brother when he was a baby."

"Babysitting is not the same... also there was a time when you wouldn't even let me hold my brother."

Snow grimaced guiltily at the memory. "Oh Emma, you're not letting that bother you, are you? Those were very special circumstances for a few days while you were having trouble controlling your powers. You're perfectly in control of them now; it's no longer a concern at all."

Emma shrugged as she let her gaze drift down to her stomach. "Maybe, but this little one is going to depend on me for everything. There's so much more responsibility with a baby."

Snow looked at her incredulously before saying, "The Savior, who had the weight of the world, the weight of everyone's happy endings on her shoulders, and won, isn't responsible enough to care for a baby? Hogwash."

Emma snorted at her mother's colorful language. She hadn't thought about it like that, she had shouldered a lot of responsibility in the not so distant past. Even if it wasn't the same. She'd never asked to be the Savior; she'd just done what was necessary when thrust into the role. However, she had asked to be a parent; she'd tried to get pregnant for a very long time, and now that the time was almost here, she was afraid she wouldn't be up to the task.

"I don't know. There's so much to think about... you said it yourself." Emma sounded a bit defensive as she mimicked her mother's words from a few minutes earlier. "'It's not a bad thing that one of you is worried about nutrition.' See, I can't even be trusted with what I eat."

Snow shook her head, but replied gently, "Are you kidding? Emma, you are eating healthier than 90% of pregnant women I've ever seen."

"But that's just because Killian has been doing the shopping and the meal prep, if it was left to me; I'd be eating onion rings and pancakes."

"Then have a pancake. You deserve it. Killian might be going a little bit overboard with the nutritious eating, but it is good that one of you is worrying about it. You balance each other out, and you will continue to balance each other out as parents."

Emma sat back and thought about that. Maybe that was true, maybe they did balance each other, he shored up her shortcomings and vice versa.

While Emma was pondering that, Snow's mind went in a very different direction. After a minute, she swallowed roughly and said a truth that none of them confronted very often. "Emma, one thing we know for sure, your baby is going to have a much better mother than you had."

Emma looked up quickly and met her mother's eyes. "Mom, don't say that."

"No, it's true; we both know it's true. I think you know how much I wish things had been different, but I wasn't there, but you will be. That is the most important thing. Being there."

Emma bit her lip, and then in a rough voice, said, "I do worry about that, about something going wrong again. I know I won't have to make a decision like the one I made with Henry, but I do worry about something happening outside our control..."

Snow brought her hand to her daughter's belly. "You will be there for every moment with this precious gift, and I promise you, your father and I, and Killian, of course, will do everything in our power to make sure nothing separates the two of you. If Henry or Regina happen to stir up more trouble while they are off adventuring, and goodness knows what Rumple is up to, then we'll deal with it as a family, but there will be no separating of babies from their mothers." Snow's eyes were full of unshed tears, but she smiled brightly, "I decree it as Queen. And President of the Storybrooke Town Council."

"Then it is done," Emma replied with a laugh and reached over and gave her mother a hug. It was silly, there was no kingdom in Storybrooke, but her mother's words gave her comfort. Unlike when she was pregnant with Henry, she was surrounded by people who loved her, supported her, and would help her keep this child safe.

"You know what?" Emma asked with a sniff as she turned back to the table. "Maybe I can pick a color. The yellow is growing on me, if kids with yellow walls are happier then why not... but not that bright yellow you showed me before, is there something a bit softer?"

"How about this one?" Snow fingered through the pile until she found the one she was looking for. She handed the card of pale, buttery yellow to Emma.

Emma held out the chip in front of her and tried picturing the room they'd designated as the nursery painted in the warm color. Yes, this could work, cheery, but not overwhelming.

"It's called duckling yellow."

Emma smiled, that sealed it. "Perfect."

Xxx

"You've resorted to force-feeding your wife, huh?"

Killian looked up at David from where he sat on the floor looking at the directions that came with the crib. "Force-feeding? I'm doing no such thing. I'm providing plenty of nutritious sustenance for Emma and our unborn child."

"Right, well, I found when Snow was pregnant that she had cravings and it was best to let her have whatever she wanted."

"Of course, I want Emma to have her heart's desire, but if left to her own culinary devices all these years, she and Henry would have subsisted on a diet of pop tarts and items that are breaded and fried." Killian frowned disdainfully. "It's even more important now that Emma is with child that she is supplied with an abundance of healthy food."

"You might slip in a hot dog now and then, is all I'm saying, to keep her happy and sane."

Killian looked at him in horror. "I will have you know that processed meats are not recommended for pregnant women."

David looked at him, actually impressed. "You have studied up."

"The internet has been most enlightening and I've read several books."

David nodded as he organized the assortment of screws that came with the crib, and then cleared his throat before stuttering, "Um... I... have something... but... uh... I don't want to offend you..."

That stopped Killian and he looked up from the crib directions he'd been reading. "That's an ominous beginning."

David shrugged before launching into an explanation. "Recently, I was throwing the ball with Wilby and it sparked an idea. I ordered some things and played around with them in the barn. Long story short, I made you something that might come in handy, but I don't want you to think I don't trust you around my grandchild."

"Ever more ominous," Killian knit his brows together, but said nothing more. He had his own trepidations about what kind of father he would be, he wasn't sure he was ready to listen to Emma's father list his inadequacies, especially if it had to do with him not being fit to be around his own child.

David reached in his pocket and pulled out a small rounded object that appeared to be made of some sort of rubber. He handed it to Killian.

Killian turned it over in his good hand, "What is it?"

"It was a rubber ball, I cut open a bunch of them trying to find one with the right consistency, and then I shaped it and cut it down to size. It's to blunt the sharp end of your hook while you're holding the baby. Honestly, I thought it might give you confidence and comfort, especially when you have a newborn. I know I was nervous about holding my kids as infants and I don't have a sharp appendage."

Killian studied it and saw that there was a slit on the flat end of the object. He squinted in concentration as he brought it to his hook and slid it on. He turned it one way and then the next surveying the bulbous pink object and then tried it out several times by knocking it on the hard wood floor. His hook bounced off the surface, damaging neither the floor nor the ball.

David pointed to his handwork, "See I put tiny reinforcements in the slit so that the hook wouldn't slice through the softer material."

"I don't know what to say." Killian said feeling quite gratified. "This is... this is great. I... I, it would be a lie to say that I haven't been apprehensive about it, I thought I'd switch to the false hand I wear when I need disguise, but I'm more comfortable in the hook, so... I... thank you."

Pleased that his gift had been taken in the spirit it had been intended, David nodded and said, "You're welcome. One less thing for you to worry about and now that I've figured it out; I can easily make another if you need it. Let me know."

"I appreciate that." Killian said before gulping. A moment later he added, "You're right, these days... a lot of things cause me worry."

David looked at him quizzically; it wasn't very often that his son-in-law opened up to him. "Well that's very natural at this stage of the game. Every expectant father who is only weeks away is worried."

Killian nodded, but then added, "Not every expectant father has my history. It's not... well, you know better than anyone, I don't have a great history with fathers."

David took a deep breath and then shook his head. "Killian, that's all behind you and you're not going to make the mistakes our fathers made and you're not going to go back to being the person you were. You have experienced more than most people would over several life times and it has brought you to a place where you are not only a changed man, but a wise man." David them slapped his son-in-law on the back. "Pus I know you are going to be a great father, look you're sitting there in a silly apron just because Henry gave it to you. You're already a great father, and you're a great husband. And if you've convinced me that you're good enough for my baby girl, you know it's true."

Killian swallowed roughly, met the other man's gaze, and gave him a nod of acknowledgement. Then a grin stole over his face as he held up his hook. "This is a fetching pink color; you must think we're having a girl."

"Actually, the ball that had the right density just happened to be that color. It's just a plus that you get to walk around with a pink accessory."

"As with my apron, I will wear it with pride." Killian said and he meant it.

Xxx

The crib assembly took longer than anticipated, but eventually was complete. Snow left hours earlier only to return with Neal, so it wasn't until early afternoon that Killian and Emma finally found themselves alone.

By mutual agreement, they headed to the bedroom... to sleep.

xxx

With a slightly suspicious smile and a mischievous gleam in his eye, Killian moved silently across the kitchen, until he sidled up behind his wife, simultaneously sliding his hook arm around her midsection and pressing a kiss just below her ear.

"Hi." Emma relaxed back into him, still keeping an eye on the stove.

"Hi, my naughty wife," Killian murmured into her ear, pressing his nose to her temple and taking in her scent.

"Naughty? I don't remember doing anything naughty recently; did I miss something during our nap?" Emma sighed and closed her eyes, briefly enjoying his embrace, before getting back to business and flipping a pancake with practiced finesse.

"Love, you know why you're naughty, you shouldn't be exerting yourself in this manner. It's my job to feed you while you're eating for two. If you were hungry, why didn't you wake me so I could prepare dinner?" With his free hand he rubbed the shoulder over which he was not leaning.

Emma gave a quick shake of her head. "Because you were resting. You barely slept last night, between me tossing and turning and then you having to go out on that 2am drunk and disorderly - we really need to do something about the dwarfs," she flipped another pancake with her right hand as her left came to caress the hook that was resting gently on her belly. "You should have slept in this morning, but instead you got up to make me breakfast, which was unnecessary by the way, and then my parents showed up. I wanted to let you sleep, and besides I'm not an invalid, I can make pancakes, and you won't make me pancakes," Emma said the last part with a note of defiance. She set the skillet on an unused burner and turned off the stove. "However, if you want to get naughty that can be arranged," her voice was seductive as she turned in one fluid motion and searched for Killian's mouth with hers, intending to deliver a searing kiss.

Or at least that had been the plan. However, as soon as she turned, her swollen stomach hit Killian's midsection knocking him back so forcefully that his feet tangled and he fell back, his behind hitting the tile of the kitchen floor.

Killian chuckled good-naturedly as he reached to steady himself on the floor, but Emma burst into tears.

His laugh died instantly on his lips, and his heart dropped at the sound. He scrambled to his feet and in an instant was wrapping his arms around her from the side, pulling her to him. "Love, please don't cry, what's wrong?" he whispered as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"I'm huge," she sniffled after a minute, "And not sexy, and probably couldn't get naughty even if you wanted me."

He squeezed her gently, "Love, you are 36 weeks pregnant with our child which is the sexiest thing I've ever seen, and not a moment has gone by since the day we met that I haven't wanted you."

"You're just saying that," she sniffed.

Killian let go of her only long enough to reach over to the kitchen counter and grab a tissue. Tenderly he dabbed her wet cheeks. "I promise you I'm not and I'll happily prove it to you if you doubt my veracity, but for right now why don't we get you off of your feet and I'll finish... dinner." With his chin, he nudged her cheek towards the kitchen table.

Instead of moving to disentangle with him, she relaxed more into his embrace. "I don't know what's wrong with me... that's the second time I teared up today."

"The second?" Killian asked with concern, "When was the first?"

"With my mom, it was silly... just feeling a little overwhelmed with fabric and paint choices."

Killian leaned back slightly so he could see her face. "Darling, it's totally natural. According to the pregnancy book your hormone levels are changing and many women find that they cry more easily during pregnancy."

"I haven't finished the pregnancy book." Emma admitted.

He gave her a gentle squeeze. "That's all right because, I have."

That made Emma smile. Her mom was right; they did balance each other out.

"I suppose you're going to throw those out," she looked longingly at the pancakes on the stove, "and instead feed me a skinless, organic, free-range chicken breast over a bed of quinoa with steamed carrots and green beans."

"Of course not, Swan. If you want pancakes, pancakes you shall have."

"Really?"

"Really." He kissed her temple. "Emma, I want to take care of you. I want you to have everything you and the baby need. Perhaps I went overboard with the healthy eating. I want you and our baby to be happy and if pancakes make you happy, so be it."

Instead of moving to sit down, Emma turned her face and pressed her forehead to his. "Thank you, I love..."

With an expectant grin, he leaned back and waited for the end of her declaration.

"...pancakes," she finished with faux earnestness.

Killian chuckled, guided her to her chair at the kitchen table, and then bustled around getting plates utensils, butter, and syrup. He even sprinkled chocolate chips over the inviting mound of pancakes on her plate. Emma looked ecstatic.

As she dug in to the feast, Killian sat across from her and said, "I had a talk with your father this morning. He encouraged me to relax a bit on the healthy eating."

Emma swallowed a mouthful of the delicious food and admitted. "And my mom encouraged me to appreciate how you balance out my tendencies towards junk food." Emma held out her glass full of orange juice to Killian as if to offer a toast. "Here's to balance."

"To balance," Killian clinked his glass against hers. "Speaking of your parents' wisdom..." He leaned back in order to rummaged around in his pocket, before pulling out his new pink, hook protector. "Your father gifted me with this."

"What is it?" Emma asked curiously.

Killian placed it on his hook and then brought it to tap against the table, "It's to protect the cygnet."

Emma shook her head, "Our baby doesn't need protecting from you."

Killian thought about that for a second, he certainly hoped that truer words had never been spoken. "No, never, but your father's instinct was right, I'll feel more confident holding our infant, changing diapers, feeding, if I'm wearing it."

"Okay, whatever makes you more comfortable is good, because you are going to change a lot of diapers. I mean... a lot... mountains upon mountains of very, dirty diapers."

"As you command, Captain," Killian replied unfazed.

Emma smiled brightly at him and then remembered what else she talked to her mother about that morning. "Oh, hey, after I stopped crying, I actually did find a color for the nursery."

"Aye?" he cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at her.

She nodded, "If you agree, of course." Then she pushed back her chair, grabbed the paint sample from the counter and came around the table. Killian was a little surprised when he realized her intent to sit on his lap, but he dutifully pushed back his chair from the table to give her room. She plopped down, put one arm around his neck, and showed him the swatch by setting it on her pregnant belly. "It's called Duckling Yellow, it's not nearly as intense as that first yellow mom showed us, but it's cheery like you said, and warm, and it would go with a lot of other colors and-"

"It's perfect." Killian interrupted.

"Are you sure, I don't want to make the decision without you."

"You're not, I love it."

She pressed a kiss to the apple of his cheek. "I'm so glad you're the father of my child."

He crooked his neck back in order to get a better look at her. "Well, Swan, we've been married for five years so I hope there's no question about that..."

She laughed but shook her head. "No, I mean it. I know I've been a bit... cranky lately."

"My, love, you are growing our human inside of you, you may be as cranky as you wish."

Emma smiled and kissed him again. "That's why I'm so grateful."

"You're grateful you're cranky?"

"No," she nodded as one hand caressed the hair at the nape of his neck. "I'm grateful I have a partner who doesn't care that I'm cranky and who wants to be there with me every step of the way, and who reads pregnancy books and goes to a lot of effort to feed me healthy foods. The last time I did this, I was terrified, alone and in a cell. Now I have the most wonderful man in the world getting up in the morning after two hours of sleep just so he can make me a healthy breakfast. It's... it's wonderful and I appreciate it. I want you to know that."

He leaned in and stole a kiss. "Well, Swan, I'm glad that you're the mother of my child. We're in this together."

Emma beamed at him, brimming with happiness. They were in it together.

"But..." Killian's face contorted into an exaggerated wince.

"But what?" Emma asked with concern.

"Darling, you have to get up my left leg is going to sleep."

Emma pouted as she stood. "See, I'm huge, I knew it."

"Nah, I just needed you to stand so I could do this." Killian abruptly stood and then in one fluid movement, he easily picked her up- one arm behind her back the other under her knees- and headed towards the stairs, intent on a bit of naughty time. Emma shrieked and giggled the entire way to their bedroom.

The End.


End file.
